A Sketch of Shadows
by Alison Alliterates Amicably
Summary: En Redfern, broken inside and yet respected through the ranks of the Night World. Jake Farraday, a fresh vampire, thirsting for acceptance. Each trapped in their own emotional barriers, each too scarred to venture out. What could their meeting result in?
1. Default Chapter

Prologue: En; Jake  
  
Shin-lu Belvedere. Ling Juan. Mizuki Takusuka. Nicola Andreyev.  
  
She leant back, letting her mind float over the many names she had been known under, the many races she had been thought to be.  
  
What was that line from that poem again?  
  
"The years to come seemed waste of breath. / A waste of breath the years behind."  
  
At precisely 654 years, 8 months and 12 days old, she would obviously empathize with the poet's words. How nice. A vamp empathizing with a dead vermin. The Night World council would be thrilled to pieces.  
  
En Redfern closed her eyes discreetly, letting the ongoing debate of the Elders wash over her. She had not fed for four days now; even with powers as developed as one of her age it was a strain on herself.  
  
En could not remember much about her past. She didn't usually stop to care about it, but on meetings like these it was a much more interesting avenue to channel her thoughts to. She knew she had been born, an original purebred vampire, somewhere in Paris. She knew that her mother was from the Orient, her father a descendant of the apparently prestigious Redferns. She knew that she had been born into an affluent household. She knew that her first kill was when she was six, when she had done away with the head steward of the house. She knew that he had been a handsome young man, but she could not remember his face. She could not remember what had happened after she had exterminated him; to be concise she could not remotely remember anything after that: her memories could only continue from when she left the family to seek her own fortunes, when she was eighteen. And everything from there onwards was also hopelessly sketchy.  
  
What much significant was there to remember anyway?  
  
En. En, which meant grace in Mandarin. Grace, her cursed body had, but grace life had not applied onto her. Too much she had gambled, too much she had lost.  
  
So En preferred not to think of such things. And En preferred not to be called En.  
  
But ever since the dratted world of cursed beings like her somehow organized themselves into the Night World (about time too), En had had to let some of the respected authority know of her true identity. Not that they needed informing, but En was expected to admit it to them, like she was some kind of criminal confessing his crime. And, because of her years, because of her 'talent', because of the plain fact that En had become too detached and emotionless and couldn't-care-less, they had jumped at her to be a member of the Night World council. En didn't remember agreeing to join; she just had.  
  
To En, the Council was awash with hotheaded poseurs anyway. The whole of Night World, in fact, was awash with so-called predators who were lost to the art of hunting. How ironic. En's lip curled unconsciously. It was intensely amusing, how the young ones were so very naïve.  
  
The babble of voices had melted down around her. En opened her eyes again, and stood up, gathering her things (a slim laptop which she had been expected to type minutes on, but never did; a thin silver pen which she never used but always twirled) as the Council was dismissed. She did not bother to stay around to speak to the others, making her way to her black Porsche at the back of the compound.  
  
As she slid into the driver's seat, deceivingly delicate frame clothed in a signature black suit, long black hair neatly tucked into a casual bun, she ignored easily the presence of a young male vampire watching her not too far away.  
  
~  
  
Jake Farraday knew full well who the beautiful girl who had driven away was. Even a 'just-made' new kid around the block knew who she was. She was En Redfern, of course, notoriously efficient as an assassin, a brilliant strategist, and all-round anti-social. Jake had high expectations of himself as a vampire. He was fresh, only a year since departing from vermin status (his good friend of rather questionable sexuality, Owen, had provided him the privilege when Jake had died last summer from a freak accident involving a lot of questionable underage delinquents with questionable licences and questionable ownerships of a couple of banged-up cars) so he did not qualify to party with the best of the vampires in the most glamorous clubs yet; anyway, some of them were still rather uppity around him because of him not being an original. But Jake had anticipated that: Owen had warned him earlier, so after a few times Jake seldom got riled-up.  
  
But that girl. En had caught his eye from a distance when she had appeared at a mass gathering for Night World members, and she had got him, all right. Jake wasn't sure why - besides the fact that she was undeniably cool and (almost) undeniably unattainable, she was, as said, beautiful, but so was every other vampire you would meet. Jake couldn't explain, even to himself, why En's aloof, sharp-angled and exquisitely crafted face attracted him so; couldn't explain why her sloping, Oriental dark grey eyes appeared so appealing, so sadly gorgeous; couldn't explain why her red lips seemed so pleasurable. All Jake knew was that he wanted her. Badly.  
  
Jake himself was lanky, with pale silver eyes, his white skin framed by soft, white-blond hair; his features decisive and well pronounced. He was only ordinary by vampiric standards, but of course amongst vermin he was decidedly desirable. But En Redfern was... Jake couldn't quite express it. She was enigmatic; her attractiveness extended, in its eloquence, beyond physical. There was a quality of dire hopelessness resonating from her that drew Jake unreasonably to her.  
  
And of course, if Jake ever got to know her, his status in the Night World society would definitely be given a boost.  
  
Jake trailed the gravel of the sidewalk, identical to many along glitzy Los Angeles. En's Porsche was albeit like a small black dot in the far-off distance, quickly getting obscured by other cars and other towering buildings with their flashy lights and grimy windows.  
  
Jake sighed.  
  
And as the overused cliché of 'so near yet so far' came to his head, all he could do was walk off to search for fresh prey. 


	2. Chapter One: Backwards to Forwards

A/N: I forgot to mention the last time...but of course everyone knows that the Night World concept belongs to LJ Smith. And the line from the poem 'An Irish Airman Foresees his Death' is by W.B. Yeats.  
  
Chapter One: Backwards to Forwards  
  
"En?"  
  
A voice, soft and sibilant, whispered into the tendrils of En's mind. En frowned harshly as she stalked the alleys of the sprawling city; she had just fed on a particularly young and effeminate pretty boy, and was still basking in the glow of his sweet blood. She didn't especially need to be interrupted now. Definitely not by a fellow Council member. Who had known her for all 654 years of her life, no less.  
  
"What?" En hissed back, through her mind. She could _feel_ Rafael Fuchs' condescending lopsided smile, his lips quirking up from the left.  
  
"China Moon, tonight, remember? You _promised_, meine liebe En..."  
  
En, irritated, shrugged. "I don't recall."  
  
"Sure you don't." Replied Rafael, voice dripping with obvious doubt. Not bothering to force her to admit her appointment, he continued in an infuriatingly matter-of-fact tone, "I'll meet you at the Hilton; we can go to China Moon in my car."  
  
"I'm not going anywhere. I want to feed."  
  
"On what? On 'effeminate pretty boys' in private school uniforms? Your taste has always been questionable, En..." Rafael continued in his singsong voice. En scowled as she realized that he had been picking at her mind.  
  
"So I have a fetish for 'effeminate pretty boys'." En replied, snappishly, as she threw up her defences.  
  
"If you came along tonight you'll get to feed to you heart's desire...all the young vampires fall at our feet."  
  
"You mean they fall at yours."  
  
"I've heard of a young one who craves you more than anything."  
  
"How flattering." En said, blandly. Already her mood had swung from irritable to bored. The conversation was progressing nowhere.  
  
One more answer, she thought, and I'll lock up.  
  
"He looks entirely like Gareth..." Rafael's voice had taken a malicious note. "Remember Gareth, En? I'm sure you do..."  
  
En had stopped in her tracks. She paused, ready to block Rafael out.  
  
"Don't block me out, En..." Rafael mocked, faking a chiding tone.  
  
En didn't answer. Walking again, reaching her Porsche around the corner, En didn't reply.  
  
A second later after she got into her car again, Rafael had found himself completely thrown out of her mind.  
  
~  
  
Rafael Fuchs lounged in the black velvet sofa in En's high-end apartment, waiting for the expected click of the front door as soon as En returned home.  
  
Sometimes Rafael wondered why she even bothered to try to avoid him. Rafael, whom had studied her every move and looked after her in every way possible. It amazed him, rather, that she would still think she could escape him.  
  
But En had always been so innocent, so predictable, despite her many years and her reputation. Although, of course, the only person to know that was Rafael.  
  
And Gareth.  
  
To Rafael, En's practically life-long dedication to Gareth was utterly "un-En-like". That En, who was annoyingly pragmatic and logical by default, would have fallen for a wayward vampire two centuries older than her, and had actually expected him to stay by her side was incredible in itself. Rafael had found it difficult to believe that Gareth had even hung around for a full century before he took off. And never turned up again, of course.  
  
Though perhaps there was some jealousy on Rafael's part...but Rafael would rather have been staked than admit that to En.  
  
Rafael could still remember it as if it were yesterday. En acted like she could not remember anything, but that was En. Gareth Lorrinstal was tall and lean and lithe, like almost all male vampires, but En had been especially taken by his white-blonde hair and (sickeningly, thought Rafael) silver-grey eyes. Rafael had never seen En react to someone the way she had reacted to Gareth. He doubted that record would ever be broken.  
  
Even now, in their rather unique relationship which was strung somewhere between best friends and somewhere between "almost-lovers" (En would never agree to bedding with him), Rafael could tell that he would never, despite being the sole person on earth who knew her so thoroughly and for so long, replace Gareth.  
  
Rafael knew full well that every night, when En kissed him, it was a different kiss from the ones she would have given Gareth.  
  
Rafael sighed. Gareth had had En's heart, En's soul, and En's body.  
  
All Rafael had was the fact that he had always loved En.  
  
And En never knew.  
  
~  
  
As soon as En stepped out of her Porsche, she knew.  
  
The entire apartment block seemed to be permeated with Rafael's essence.  
  
Scowling, En made her way up to the uppermost apartment of the building, where the penthouse, which she had owned since last year when she had moved from New York, was.  
  
Personally En preferred New York, but Rafael had shown such enthusiasm at being in Los Angeles that En had given in to his pleadings. To be honest, En herself wasn't ever really sure what kind of exact relationship she and Rafael had: in terms of work they were the best partners around; in terms of friends they had known each other all their lives; in terms of anything other than that...  
  
All En knew was that she was fond of Rafael. Most of time, anyway. Certainly not, at present.  
  
En knew that Rafael probably hadn't meant to make her upset. Purely because En knew that Rafael knew that the mere mention of _that person_ was enough to set En on a one-vampire demolition course.  
  
Rafael had always had it sore about _that person_. En preferred to drain it out from her memory.  
  
The door clicked open, and En stepped inside, dropping her laptop on a nearby chair. Not bothering to glance at Rafael who as usual was sprawling all over the sofa, En went into the master bedroom to change and take a bath in the adjoining bathroom.  
  
~  
  
Jake Farraday wandered about the basketball court at Clarington-Fox High, as the last of the basketball team players streamed out after a long day's practice. Owen Redfern was the last of them, his shock of copper red hair standing out amongst the rest.  
  
"Jake." Owen grinned, an unsettling wolfish grin, the same one he always gave to Jake.  
  
At least he had stopped giving Jake that slow, seductive smile he had first given him, when Jake had first met him on the steps of Clarington- Fox, still innocent of the Night World. Jake supposed it was a small blessing.  
  
Owen still had an uncomfortable way of checking out Jake's slender frame as if he were using his eyes to undress him.  
  
Jake turned away, the hairs at the base of his neck going on end, as they usually did when Owen did that.  
  
"Owen." Jake replied, as nonchalantly as he could. "Are you going to China Moon tonight? You know, the big exclusive bash?"  
  
"Still craving En Redfern's delectable butt?" remarked Owen, not answering the question, his characteristic smirk on his face. Then, adding as if on afterthought, "I doubt she'll turn up, though."  
  
"Why not? She's invited, isn't she?"  
  
"If a vamp like _you_ is invited to the poshest new club in town, do you think someone like En Redfern wouldn't be invited?" retorted Owen in a dry tone.  
  
Jake opened his mouth, then shut it again, deciding it were better not to respond to that.  
  
Obviously Owen had not had a good day.  
  
"You know full well she's off-limits to you, Farraday. And that other old vamp, the _delicious_," Owen paused significantly to slowly lick his lips, whilst Jake proceeded to automatically cringe, "Rafael Fuchs with the beautiful raven black hair and the gorgeous blue eyes: I've heard that he's had his eye on her for centuries. And I mean literal, centuries. They have this on-off thing going on; apparently every other time En Redfern is feeling a bit..." Owen paused suggestively again, "_skittish_, Rafael Fuchs gets first dibs."  
  
Jake did not care. "Maybe she just wants something she hasn't found yet."  
  
"And after more than six hundred years of existence she's going to find what she 'hasn't found yet' in you. Right." Owen's tone was painfully apparent in its dubiousness.  
  
Jake decided to ignore that as well. "So are you going, or are you not?"  
  
"Going, my darling Jake. After all, a lot of _guys_ are turning up. And if their supply runs dry...there's always the more traditional selection of the opposite sex." Owen's wolfish grin had found its way to his face again.  
  
"So...erm..." Jake didn't quite know how to ask Owen for what he really needed from him.  
  
"I'll give you a lift, Farraday." Owen had an amused glint in his dark green eyes. "Eight o'clock, your place."  
  
~  
  
Bleurgh. Another non-moving chapter. Oh well. Next chapter: the bash at China Moon! (And of course, don't forget to click on the blue button at the bottom left-hand corner and review...()  
  
~ Alison Alliterates 


	3. Chapter Two: Respective Monologues

A/N: I noticed I said I was going to do a moving chapter about China Moon the last time. Unfortunately, my fingers have denied everyone that till the next chapter.bleurgh, again.  
  
Chapter Two: Respective Monologues  
  
En let the cold water cradle her body, feeling its near sensuous touch creep stealthily along her skin. Her temper slowly dispelled itself: En had been around long enough to have learnt that bursting into flame with other vampires never did guarantee a long existence in the Night World.  
  
So at present En was going to ignore what Rafael had said, and stuff it to the back of her mind.  
  
Closing her eyes, En felt her muscles relax, succumbing to the numbing sensation of the water. A knot of tension at the back of her neck started uncoiling, and En could sense the fresh blood of the boy she had fed on course through her own blood like a revitalising new lease of life.  
  
She was still hungry...some vampire blood could do her some good, she decided. Adding on to the fact that the agency was out to recruit more trainees... especially since the older assassins like herself and Rafael were either in semi-retirement or were involved in other branches of the Night World; in hers and Rafael's case, they were both in Night World Council.  
  
It was not surprising that older assassins, despite their finesse and experience in the line, never had much interest in continuing, save for jobs which would require more skill and daring than that which could be found within the ranks of ordinary assassins. Everyone else seemed to think that the assassins loved doing what they did (after all, what job could be more preferable than one which naturally worked according to your own predatory instincts?); but En knew, and the other seniors knew, that after a while even the satisfaction one got from a killing became monotonous and uneventful. The thrill became commonplace, the adrenaline rush was missing, only the calculated, perfectly executed actions were anything left to take pride in. Because the golden days of the old assassin sect of the Night World were almost over: the new bloods could never live up to their legacy, not even now during the chase to collect the Wild Powers.  
  
En found the whole prophecy a laugh; but then for a long time now, everything and anything and everyone and anyone had been a laugh to her - it was only a matter of whether it was a bitter laugh or a real laugh, if one could get the gist of that; sometimes En just laughed and laughed when all she wanted to do was cry.  
  
But she could not remember the last time she had cried; or perhaps she did but didn't want to remember.  
  
Anyway it seemed as if there was nothing left to do besides put on a mask every morning, living up to a reputation she had not asked to have.  
  
En sighed, unconsciously as her mind drifted inevitably back to what Rafael had said again. Gareth.  
  
An old wound, somewhere within the deep reaches of her heart, bleeding quietly all this time, had started to ache again, by the sole reminder of his name.  
  
She knew he was still alive. She could feel it; sense it, even if she could not prove it.  
  
Gareth, Gareth, Gareth.  
  
When she slept she still felt Gareth's comforting arms wrapped around her body. When she kissed Rafael she still felt Gareth's gentle lips, Gareth's breath soft on her skin as his mouth slid down her neck. When she fed she still heard Gareth's chiding tone as he had instructed her on how to better her skills. She could still taste Gareth's blood, thick and powerful and completely fulfilling.  
  
En had always thought she could leave everything to the disposal of a purposely convenient memory, but her senses denied her leave from Gareth.  
  
A soft sob, almost virginal in essence, broke from her larynx, uncalled for.  
  
Then En suddenly stood up, reaching for a towel and wiping herself dry with a vengeance; harshly and painfully as if trying to purge herself of whatever sentiments she had. Her face, which she knew, almost guiltily for no particular reason, had been pasted with a sad, sombre expression; so now she pasted another expression on her face - the usual of hard and expressionless.  
  
She faced herself in the mirror, her naked body flushed by the rough sloughing of the towel. She stared down the fast-tearing grey eyes. She stared down the white throat, which was red and quivering from the effort it took to hold the consecutive sobs back.  
  
A light tremor, almost a shiver, ran through her body, destroying the control.  
  
And then En Redfern broke down and cried.  
  
~  
  
Jake Farraday pulled at his fawn-grey button-down shirt, smoothing down his black suede pants, as he waited at the living room of the Farraday mansion.  
  
Their family was rich. Their family was fragmented. Their family barely existed, save for the familial festivities of Christmas and Thanksgiving.  
  
Jake remembered the last time he had seen his mother was two years ago. Lee Farraday worked in Japan, as goodness knows what. Nobody ever told Jake. Jake supposed everyone else thought it did not matter whether Jake knew or not.  
  
Jake's older sister, Jade, was attending college in Harvard. Majoring, again, in goodness knows what. As Jake was redundant in this family of classic overachievers, therefore it was not anyone's particular responsibility to tell Jake.  
  
Jake's father was a director of a pharmaceutical company. Jake only found out about that when he saw his father's name in the papers in fifth grade. Before that, Brian Farraday was merely the Dad who sits in a nice Jaguar whilst a random family chauffeur (they had two or three) drives in the front seat.  
  
Jake had grown up in an empty house full of everything whilst at the same time lacking in everything else. Even when Jade had not been in college she had been intellectually advanced enough to be sent to a prestigious boarding school in Switzerland ever since she was nine and could speak more than five different languages. So Jake's constant companions were the silent, reliable staff - Lyons the butler, Mrs. Smith the cook, Jolin the housekeeper and Yong and Lawrence and Whatshisname the chauffeurs - all of whom had addressed him as 'Master Jacob' for as long as Jake could remember.  
  
And of course, though his mother would send expensive clothes every month, and Jake's medical and educational fees were always duly paid, nobody ever said a word about pocket money, or money for college, or money for a car.  
  
Jake supposed they forgot, or couldn't be bothered to care.  
  
So a year ago, when Jake, the famously reclusive introvert, had met Owen, his polar opposite, Jake had been secretly flattered by Owen's attention. Even if it went against Jake's normal sexual tendencies to have such a reaction. Even if Jake was spooked out by Owen most of the time. Though of course Jake was not insane enough to actually openly show any attraction the way Owen did.  
  
Even if Jake suspected Owen always knew otherwise.  
  
Owen had always cornered Jake; Jake could easily recall the countless of times Owen had 'accidentally' kissed Jake, his lips passing Jake's swiftly and lightly, almost as if they hadn't touched his. But they had, and each time Jake went home feeling more confused and more disgusted than the last.  
  
And then Owen had bit him.  
  
Jake couldn't quite remember how it had happened; only that he had been dead drunk from the wildest party he had ever been to and Owen had somehow dragged him out of it. In fact Jake couldn't even remember the actual process - all he could really recall was a sharp pain in the side of his neck at one minute, then a whole whirl of messed up sequences later, Owen had somehow managed to hold him up long enough to take a sip of Owen's blood, which Owen had supposedly offered him from his cut wrist (Jake supposed Owen must have cut it himself), and all Jake could remember was that it tasted weird. Good. Tantalising. Jake wasn't entirely sure.  
  
And then Jake had passed out completely, and woke up the next afternoon with his memory absolutely blank in Owen's bedroom, sprawled across Owen's bed. Jake had found Owen asleep himself on a cot in the corner of the room, so he was comforted to a certain extent that Owen hadn't done anything explicit. Owen, being Owen, had neither denied nor affirmed Jake's queries; he had simply given Jake his signature seductive smirk. Jake, being Jake and fully heterosexual, decided that it was best not to develop any further thoughts based on that smirk.  
  
But when Jake had returned home that night suffering from a massive hangover, his mind had began to slowly piece back the happenings of the night before, however sketchy. And Jake began having suspicions - whacked- out suspicions, he had thought at that time - regarding Owen.  
  
Owen, again, being Owen, when finally confronted a full week later by a hesitant Jake, very nonchalantly told Jake the entire truth, and consequently bit him. Again. After which he fed the extremely dazed Jake his blood.  
  
Jake didn't know why he hadn't done something, or hadn't told anyone about Owen. Owen certainly had not worried about reminding him to keep his trap shut.  
  
Then again, that was Owen.  
  
So one day, two months after Jake was first bitten, Jake had died whilst crossing the road at three in the morning (He had been leaving yet another party). It was hit-and-run; until now Jake never knew who had caused his mortal death. All Jake knew for sure was that Owen had brought him back, and Owen's cousin, Blair Thistlerose, who had happened to be there and who was a few years older and more experienced, had used some fortunate telepathy to get all three of them out of a tight knot, which had basically involved a rather sticky situation with two policemen who had been chasing after the speeding drivers in the first place.  
  
Jake supposed that one thing good about being a vampire was that Owen no longer quite had that spellbinding, freezing effect on him anymore, and the two of them were on more stable ground in terms of that all-important thing called friendship. In fact Jake could perhaps even go so far as to say that he and Owen were best friends.  
  
Somewhat.  
  
The doorbell rang, its shrill noise piercing through the utter silence of the room. Jake jumped up, grabbing his wallet from the mantelpiece, already knowing who it was.  
  
~ 


	4. Chapter Three: China Moon

A/N: Erm. Another lengthy chapter with not much movement (physically), though with a lot of suppressed emotions that boil over. Well.at least we're somewhere in China Moon already...sort of. In a sleepy mood...and everything's sort of inspired by Michael Buble. Oh well.  
  
Chapter Three: China Moon  
  
When the rose.  
  
slaps your face  
  
says your pain is a state of grace (I think that's right)  
  
mirror cracks  
  
image bleeds  
  
he'll touch your desires  
  
but not your needs  
  
I stand at an open window  
  
I see everything there is to see  
  
I've been watching you  
  
isn't it true the fool keeps taking you down down  
  
taking you  
I've been watching you  
  
isn't it true the world keeps taking you down down  
  
taking you  
  
.  
  
so there you are all dressed in black  
  
walk away and don't look back  
  
but if you must then cast a stone  
  
the light is on but there's nothing and no one home (I think)  
  
cos i've been watching you  
  
isn't it true the fool keeps taking you down down  
  
taking you  
  
I've been watching you  
isn't it true the world keeps taking you down down  
  
taking you  
  
"I've Been Watching You", Natalie Imbruglia  
  
  
  
Rafael could sense En's pain.  
  
He could hear each broken, unfamiliar sob which ravaged her delicate frame.  
  
Rafael would have felt worst than scum, usually, to ever make En upset. Surely he would have been furious to have anyone, including himself, to go so far as to break En's sky-high pride and force her to cry the way she would when she did so - harsh and self-destructing.  
  
But then perhaps Rafael had been waiting for too long.  
  
He loved En; he had always made his care and affection obvious, if anything extravagant on his part.  
  
And if anything he was sick and tired of her escaping, like she always did, from things she did not want to see. She did not want to know that Rafael loved her, so her mind told her, whether consciously or unconsciously, that he did not.  
  
Rafael had promised himself he would wait. He had promised himself, for En's sake, to put En's happiness before his own.  
  
But 640 years. 640 years. Rafael could no longer take it anymore.  
  
Rafael sensed the bathroom knob click open, and rose up, making his way to the master bedroom, only to find En slipping on a black silk dress, the luxurious material cascading down her body like liquid onyx.  
  
Her lips were ruby red, contrasting starkly against her white skin and straight black hair; yet it somehow matched the twin flushed points on her high cheekbones, making her look somewhat feverish but all the more vulnerable.  
  
Rafael opened his mouth to say something, but En's clear grey eyes caught his blue ones, and without a word she shoved a black shirt into Rafael's hands before stalking out of the room.  
  
Rafael, looking at the shirt in his hands, fell back against the wall.  
  
Still not knowing what to do.  
  
Or what to say.  
  
~  
  
  
  
Owen Redfern gave Jake Farraday a lazy smile as the boy dipped his white-blonde head through the low hood of the Lamborghini, his fawn-grey shirt outlining his slim frame.  
  
Owen was very fond of Jake, perhaps more so than the first time he had met him. Jake, with his absent way, sensitive grey eyes, and tentative nature had amused Owen. At first it was all in the name of fun; Owen liked using the fact that Jake had a kind of predisposed assumption that Owen was either homosexual or bisexual (in actual fact Owen was neither, but there was a certain kick out of watching Jake squirm) to play with Jake's mind. An occasional light brush of lips on Jake's was Owen's own experimentation on what it would feel like, but it was soon before Owen had realised he had developed a peculiar emotional attachment to the boy who would float into various reveries during class, the boy who always finished his assignments on time and did well but never thought so. The boy who hung around, somewhat popular because of his looks and offhand attitude, and yet never belonging anywhere. The boy who was so afraid of being thought less than the rest of his successful family, although somewhere in his head he had already decided long ago that he was, no matter what or who told him otherwise.  
  
So Owen had decided to show him the Night World.  
  
Now, on afterthought, Owen still wondered what had possessed him to do such a thing. As much as he was thankful of Jake's continued existence after his untimely death, it amazed Owen that he, being Owen and self- serving, had actually risked expulsion from the Night World for Jake, who had been vermin at that time.  
  
What Owen had never told Jake was that after Owen had made him, with the help of Blair, Owen's cousin, both Owen _and_ Blair had been put before the Council. With thanks, of course, to a certain Ash Redfern, who with his cunning had somehow managed to slip Owen's actions up to the Council.  
  
Owen swore that if he ever set eyes on that traitor again, who had apparently ran off to join Circle _Daybreak_, of all stupid things to do, along with fellow dumbbells James Rasmussen and John Quinn, he would take pleasure in breaking his every bone before staking him.  
  
Anyway, Owen had only managed to escape certain death (and Blair certain removal from Rielstorm) through the numerous multiple strings pulled by his and Blair's respective parents, as well as the insistence of En Redfern.  
  
Owen still remembered what En had said when she had addressed Council, finally sealing the deal which saved his butt.  
  
"If you do anything to harm Owen, or as much as try to tamper with Blair, Rafael Fuchs and I will resign from Rielstorm. After which we will have entirely no commitment applied to Rielstorm - or the Night World Council."  
  
And that had been sufficiently silencing.  
  
Especially considering all the assassins in Rielstorm, who were the best in the Night World and the most feared instruments of the Council, were all actually orphans (with the exception of Blair) who were completely loyal to En's word, and never to the Council's.  
  
"Owen?" Jake's quiet, clear voice, suiting his apparent character so perfectly, but directly contrasting the intensity Owen knew he could have. Like the intensity of his obsession with En Redfern - however ironic.  
  
"Yes?" Owen answered, expertly manoeuvring the sleek black car around a sharp corner, as they left Jake's street to blend with the swiftly catching dark of the night.  
  
"You said En might not come."  
  
Owen shrugged. "Perhaps; she's known not to like crowds. But Blair's going to be there, after being away for the past year, so maybe she'll come to meet up with him."  
  
"She's close with Blair?"  
  
"He's her favourite student. Of course, it helps that he's the best, too..."  
  
"How did he come to train under her anyway?"  
  
Owen smiled, following Jake's train of thought. "He was chosen by her. Saw him the first time she came here; liked his style. And Blair's smart, and perceptive, so he knew how to rub her the right way."  
  
Jake nodded, still deep in thought, unaware of Owen's amusement.  
  
Owen decided not to pursue the matter, concentrating on the road.  
  
~  
  
  
  
"You are far..."  
  
A brown-haired young vampire sang into the mike, his voice mixing perfectly with the rich deep tone of the double bass, resonating sensuously, subtly through the dance floor, as En allowed Rafael to lead her in a slow dance, letting her body relax slowly again, unknotting the tenseness in her muscles as she swayed to the music, the light piano crush notes adding a quirky touch to the overall sound.  
  
"When I could have been your star, you listened to people...who scared you to death and from my heart..."  
  
"Strange that you were strong enough to even make a start...You'll never find the piece of mind till you've listened to your heart..."  
  
En, particularly susceptible after the earlier evening's crying, tensed again at the line. From the corners of her mind, some unwanted events started to re-unfurl...  
  
Rafael, particularly susceptible to En ever since he had fallen for her when he was sixteen years old, immediately sensed her discomfort, starting to pay attention to the lazy lyrics.  
  
"People...you can never change the way they feel...better let them do just what they will, for they will...if you let them steal your heart from you..."  
  
Rafael's heart clenched, noticing the implications on his own situation...  
  
"People...will always make a lover feel a fool...but you knew I loved you."  
  
En started looking at the floor; almost missing a beat and stepping on Rafael - Rafael looked down towards the girl searchingly...the last line echoing in his mind... "You knew I loved you..."  
  
"We could have shown them all...we should have seen love through."  
  
En's mind swam with unfinished sentences hanging in the air; but Gareth...  
  
No, Gareth and her were a mistake together. She would have thought that was clear enough. Especially after what he had done...  
  
"Fooled me with the tears in your eyes...covered me with kisses and lies..."  
  
Rafael felt himself flipping over inside again, the lyrics starting to pound in his head.  
  
"So bye...but please don't -- take my heart..."  
  
"You are far...I'm never gonna be your star..."  
  
It occurred to En how true that was; she turned away this time, not wanting to listen anymore, but Rafael seemed to hold her even tighter...  
  
"I'll pick up the pieces, mend my heart..."  
  
Could he ever? Wondered Rafael, already knowing the answer.  
  
"Strange that I was wrong enough to think you'll love me too..."  
  
And Rafael winced, being fully reminded of the truth, causing En's head to automatically snap up in surprise.  
  
Both sensed the other was somehow suffering, but neither knew exactly why...  
  
"You must have been kissing a fool...I said you must have been a- kissing a fool!"  
  
The sax skipped on the last note, and so did Rafael's heart. En studied Rafael's face, as yet another set of unwanted suspicions surfaced...  
  
"But remember this. Every other kiss that you'll ever give 'long as we both live - when you need the hand of another man, when you really can't surrender it;"  
  
"I will wait for you, like I always do,"  
  
Rafael faced En's enquiring eyes with an imploring, almost guilty look of his own - it was inexplicable, why he did so; as En started to read further into the lyrics and Rafael's expression...  
  
The music rose in a crescendo, then a decrescendo immediately afterwards; En started growing cold, very cold...It could not be. Never. Rafael could not possibly...  
  
"There's something there...that can't compare...to any ot-her..."  
  
Love her?  
  
"You are far...when I could have been your star..."  
  
But why else...?  
  
No.  
  
"You listened to people, who scared you to death and from my heart. Strange that I was wrong enough to think you'll love me too..."  
  
"You must have been kissing a fool..."  
  
"No," En's voice was shaky.  
  
Rafael, having waited for so long...  
  
"Yes."  
  
In one swift motion, En backed away, running.  
  
"En!"  
  
*Don't tell me you didn't know...you did you did only you never wanted to face up to it you scaredy-cat...he kissed you...it can't be. No. Never. No.  
  
He's always been there...  
  
No. Too often. *  
  
But Rafael could not see or read En's confusion.  
  
"You must have..."  
  
"been kissing a fool."  
  
And as the piano slowly faded away with the sax, Rafael found himself standing in his own pathetic state of after-confession.  
  
"Oh...you must have...been kissing..."  
  
"A fool..."  
  
~  
  
A/N2: Well...so much for warnings from darling!reviewers for having loooong non-moving chapters...at least now that everyone knows how everyone is linked together now...so we can go into full action swing (hopefully) in the next chap onwards. Well... I was always more of a descriptive/narrative person than a 'conversationist'. :) By the way, the song's from Michael Buble's debut album (I think it was originally a George Michael song): it's called 'Kissing a Fool' (duh). And I've already mentioned that the song at the start is Natalie Imbruglia's. And Rielstorm is an invented thing (a.k.a. It is Mine!). FF.net seems to have some uploading problems...I can't seem to upload this chapter (or else it would have been up on Friday the 13th...what an auspicious day, haha.)  
  
A/N3: Next chapter spoilers: Miscommunications galore between the escapist En and a hurt Rafael; En meets up with protégé Blair, as well as Owen, who intros her to Gareth-lookalike Jake, resulting in some insecurity and even more confusion on En's part; everyone's favourite Mr. (Formerly) Egocentric, Ash Redfern, tries a hand at spying (we wonder how the anti-Ash Owen reacts to this); Lord Thierry worries about the new Council shifts and explains why En and Gareth broke up in the first place to the Daybreakers; and (perhaps, if I have the stamina and don't get overly-sidetracked) the new Wild Power is introduced...  
  
~Alison Alliterates a.k.a. YX 


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